


Suffer the Children

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Upstairs Downstairs (2011)
Genre: Autism, Comfort, Developmental Disabilities, Down Syndrome, Epilepsy, Gen, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 21:11:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15916332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: Hallam and George discuss the members of their families that society demanded be swept under the rug in the late 19th/early 20th C.





	Suffer the Children

**Author's Note:**

> Prince John Windsor was the last son/child born to King George and Queen Mary. He was four years younger than George. He was diagnosed with epilepsy at a young age, as well as having behavioral and learning difficulties that today would likely place him somewhere on the autism spectrum. He was hidden away on the grounds of Sandringham and rarely acknowledged until his death from a seizure in 1919 at the age of 13. His nurse/nanny Lala was a real person, his relationship with George is exactly as described and the same with David/Edw VIII, who was revolted by him. For further insight, see The Lost Prince miniseries, although it wasn’t completely accurate re ages and a few small details.

It had been more than a bit awkward at first having Pamela living with them rather than only visiting occasionally. The awkwardness was rather annoying to Hallam, who had never felt it himself. Pamela was simply his sister and he loved her, with a boy’s heart still. Yes, she was slow mentally, and child-like, that was obvious, as were her different physical features. But she was also sunny and sweet and kind, full of an uncomplicated love there was never enough of these days.

She was little trouble to the staff because thankfully his Aunt Blanche had rather taken to Pamela as soon as she’d met her. As infuriating and scandal-making as the woman might be, she was a loving mentor to Pamela, who loved her. She also usually kept Pamela out of Agnes’s way.

Agnes, like many people - most people, if Hallam was honest - was uneasy in Pamela’s company. Pamela rarely made her angry, but she frustrated Agnes. Pamela wasn’t a toddler but she was also not quite an adolescent in her mental age. It was difficult to know how to speak to her or regard her with that in mind, and Agnes didn’t like not knowing what to do or not being in control. Echoes of Persie there, he supposed. She was never unkind, but she could make no connection with Pamela. If she ever had tried, she had stopped at some point.

Someone else in his life who was surprisingly easy with Pamela and kind to her was George. He had no problem carrying on a conversation with her, or making her laugh, and Pamela adored him. She often asked when he was coming to visit. Usually it was after she’d gone to bed, but since Hallam had told him how much Pamela looked forward to his visits, George made an effort to come at tea time every now and then. He seemed to get as much enjoyment out of their time together as Pamela did.

During one of their late night talks at Eaton Place, Hallam mentioned how grateful he was to George for his kindness to her. George smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“When we were at school, do you remember me mentioning my youngest brother Johnny?” he asked. “I never said much at the time, though I did go to Sandringham for the funeral. There would have been barely anything in the press.”

“Once or twice, perhaps. He died very young, didn’t he?”

“Once or twice, or not at all - that’s how often my family thought of him when he was alive, except me. And since his death, I’m sure no one ever thinks of him except me, Lala and perhaps mamá. Lala was our nanny.” George smiled at remembering her, but otherwise seemed sad.

“Was Johnny…like Pamela?” Hallam asked quietly. George sighed and looked deeply into his drink. Hallam slid over a bit on the sofa. George put his glass down and let his head rest on Hallam’s shoulder.

“Not exactly, no. He was prone to epileptic fits. Besides that, he wasn’t really slow, but he was…different than other children. He was very bright,” George insisted, “but it was…difficult to communicate with him. Sometimes he understood perfectly but other times not. There were times it seemed either as if he’d shut all of us out, or he wanted out to join us and couldn’t find the way. He was socially awkward and often behaved inappropriately, yet he was surprisingly artistic and loved music. I bought him a gramophone, and Lala told me he loved to imitate the playing of the instruments, and even conduct an orchestra.

“He had tutors, but they all eventually gave up on him and pronounced him unteachable. I don’t think he was unteachable; I always sensed intelligence in Johnny. I think he wanted to learn and to talk to us, but the tutors couldn’t figure out how to reach him and Johnny couldn’t tell us what he needed; he probably didn’t know either. It broke my heart, sometimes, the way others would behave towards him,” George sighed.

“David was horrible to him, the few times he could bring himself to be in the same room with Johnny. And when Johnny died, David called him an animal, and wouldn’t go to his funeral. I might some day be able to forgive him for Mrs Simpson, but I’ll never forgive him for that.” George grimaced. “His own brother. It was cruel and inexcusable. And mamá especially asked him to attend. He made up some excuse or other about having a prior engagement of some kind that he couldn’t or wouldn’t put off because of Johnny.”

“How did he die?” Hallam asked, gently stroking George’s hair.

“As he grew older, his fits became more frequent and more severe. He was alone for only a few minutes - Lala rarely left him, and there was usually someone else around if she did. He had a very bad fit, and he choked to death. Poor Lala blamed herself, but I never blamed her. She loved all of us, but she loved Johnny best of all because he needed her the most. He was only thirteen when he died. I always felt very close to him, and he loved me back with a happy, pure love none of the rest of my family have been capable of. I still miss him,” George admitted, leaning in to Hallam’s hand.

“I hardly remembered anything about Pamela, but I remembered her sweetness, and her smile, and how her face lit up when I came into a room,” Hallam said. “No one else ever gave me that except Agnes; we may be beyond repair now. It’s right that Pamela is back where she belongs - and there is still someone who loves me unreservedly,” he sighed.

“There is someone else who loves you, dear Hal,” George reminded him, placing a kiss on Hallam’s palm. Hallam smiled and hugged George against him.

“I know. But it’s nice to be reminded sometimes. Thank you.”

“I admire you for taking on your mother and bringing Pamela here, so she has a happy sense of living in a family. That has been something I’ve had a lot of trouble dealing with. They all abandoned Johnny, every one of them. Pushed him into a dark corner so the People wouldn’t see, wouldn’t know he even existed,” George frowned. “It’s difficult to forgive.”

“The pressures on my parents were pretty intense to do the same thing,” Hallam reminded him. “And your parents - especially your father - had the weight of the world on their shoulders. It doesn’t make things right, but I can understand.”

“I thank God it was Bertie who became king after David left us. I would have made a real mess of it all. I would certainly have brought Johnny out of exile, if he’d lived, and damn all who knew about it and gossiped.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, George. If you’d been made king, you would finally have the sense of useful purpose your father never gave you. I think you’d surprise yourself,” Hallam told him. “And it was just as well it was after Mother’s passing that Pamela came to live with us full time, because I have no idea how that would have gone. A part of me would have enjoyed my mother’s guilt, a part would have felt sorry for her, and a part of me wonders to this day whether she ever cared very much - about Pamela _or_ me. I’m glad I was never shown the answer.”

“Loyal Hal. Thank you, old friend,” George acknowledged softly. “What do you suppose they would have made of each other, those two, hm? Would they have understood each other, do you think? I like to think they would, on some level. I think everyone recognizes love, don’t you, even if they can’t express what they feel in complicated verse. Johnny knew when people loved him, cared about him. Pamela knows too. They may not be able to tell us how it is to live in their world, but they still _feel_ , no matter what anyone says.”

“Of course they do,” Hallam agreed. “And one day, doctors will be able to help us communicate with them better than we’ve been able to. I have to believe that. I do worry about what will become of Pamela if anything happens to me. I think she’d be all right with Blanche, but you can never know, can you? At least you don’t have to worry about Johnny, and what might have become of him if David _had_ become king.”

“True,” George sighed. “Best not thought about too much though, either of us. I’m glad we talked about this tonight. I haven’t spoken about Johnny with anyone but Lala for too many years. This has made him alive again. Thank you for that.” He sat up and picked up his glass, clinking it gently against Hallam’s.

“To Johnny and Pamela, and all their lost cousins,” he whispered. “They allow you to become a child again yourself, if you’re brave enough.”

“To Johnny and Pamela,” Hallam agreed, smiling perhaps not as sad a smile as he might have before this evening. He squeezed George’s hand as they both stared into the fire.


End file.
